Marked for Vengeance (Book One: The Alyx Rayer Chronicles)

by Pierce, SJ

  Exhaustion trampled her like a herd of buffalo, and she collapsed onto the couch. She had aimed to make it to bed but was unable to take one step farther. As she lay bare on the leather sofa, her home phone rang, but she didn’t have the energy to get up and answer it. She let herself drift into a slumber, hoping the night would with it some much needed serenity.

  CHAPTER 6:

  An Intruder

  A dainty jiggle of the doorknob opened Alyx’s front door in the middle of the night with a soft groan. She hadn’t shut it all the way when she made it home, and because her unexpected run-in with Isaac dominated the thoughts in her foggy, frazzled mind, had also forgotten to double check the deadbolt. A light from inside the complex cast a long shadow into her living room from the figure that stood silently in the doorway, cupping their hand over their brow to peer through the darkness.

  They snuck down the hallway and into her apartment, and when they passed the kitchen, their head whipped to the side to observe the mess scattered about the counter. A pair of binoculars and a camera had fallen from Alyx’s purse, which she had left open and carelessly slung. The intruder made their way into the living room where Alyx slept and stopped at her side. She lay sprawled on the couch, face down and naked with her head turned to the side. A light snore escaped her mouth that hung open and glistened with drool. They knelt beside her, and a street light outside the window cast broken light rays through the open blinds, illuminating their face.

  It was Cindra.

  Her wide eyes fervently studied her friend, who appeared in terrible shape, and with a touch as delicate as silk, she brushed the hair from her face, revealing the tiny cuts that had scabbed over with blood beneath her hairline. She leaned in to study her a bit closer, and when she moved the rest of her hair off of her back, her eyes drew to the unusually shaped scar on Alyx’s shoulder blade. She stared in bewilderment at the marking and slowly let her hand fall, her gaze lifting above her friend in thought. A knowing grin pulled at the corners of her lips, and she stood to leave. When she reached the end of the couch, she moved to pull a microfiber blanket from inside the basket on the floor, and in one loving sweep, covered Alyx’s exposed body.

  On her way to the door, her eyes burned with curiosity as they cut over to Alyx’s camera on the counter. She glanced back at Alyx watchfully and reached across to pick it up. She turned it on and leaned against the wall as she flipped through the images when it came to the one of Isaac’s apartment window. Her mouth parted with a silent gasp, and her eyes shot to Alyx. She looked back at the image, turned the camera off, and placed it on the counter exactly how she had found it.

  She chewed on her thumbnail as her perplexed thoughts churned, and she finally made her way back to the door. Before going through, she paused, glancing concernedly once more over her shoulder at her friend who slept soundly on the couch.

  CHAPTER 7:

  If it’s Meant to be

  When Isaac made it home, he went straight upstairs to check on Micah who remained in a deep, restful sleep. A biting draft permeated the air, so he slid another blanket over his body to keep him from catching cold.

  He made his way down to the couch and stared out the window into the darkness, still troubled by the memory of her condition and the chilling holler that escaped as her shoulder hit the paint can. He thought of her hurt, running through the city alone, and berated himself for not being persistent to help her. Gripping his hair in frustration, he rested his elbows atop his knees. He wanted to know that she was ok. He needed to know that she was ok. I need to find her. But how?

  He reclined onto the couch, unmotivated to unfolding it into a bed, and after his closing his eyes, his mind wandered back into the dream from Friday night.

  The waterfall’s thin sheets of water crashed into the pool below, and his Dark Angel sat in the tall grass with the same deep sadness plaguing her face. He knelt in front of her to get a closer look, but the dream muddled her features like before, except her black, sorrowful eyes, which still didn’t appear to see him.

  Something moved in the grass between them, and he brushed the shivering blades aside. To his bafflement, a single beating heart writhed atop the ground. Steadily, its broken, irregular thuds grew so loud that he couldn’t discern whether it was his eardrums pulsating or the heart’s uneven pounding. He placed his hands over his ears to protect them from the unnerving clamor, but the noise wouldn’t calm.

  He looked back up at his Angel to see a hole in her chest where her heart would have been, and drips of crimson rolled down her black, silk dress. He fell backward from the shock, and a soundless shriek escaped his lips.

  As soon as his head hit the spongy earth, everything went silent again, and all he could see were the twinkling stars. He raised his head slowly and parted the grass to take another look, knowing what terrifying image waited, but his Dark Angel and her broken heart had vanished. He rested his head on the ground with relief and folded his arms across his chest, welcoming the chance to gaze peacefully at the stars.

  * * *

  The dull ache from Alyx’s shoulder woke her in the early morning hours, reminding her that the events from the night before were not just a heart-wrenching dream. Her fevered body dripped with sweat, and her tongue felt thick and dry like coarse sandpaper. A cool glass of water called to her from the kitchen.

  She sluggishly opened her eyes and used her uninjured arm to peel herself from the leather cushions that stuck to her sweaty skin. When she made it upright, blood rushed to her head and pounded inside her temples like a rubber mallet.

  I need to move around, she thought. Worried that she might fall, she closed her eyes and forced a gulp down as she placed her bare feet against the wood grain of the floor. On her way to the kitchen, she noticed a blanket on the other end of the couch that she must have kicked off during the night. I don’t remember getting that out. How drunk was I?

  She grabbed a glass from the sink and filled it halfway, too parched to wait for it to fill completely, and brought it to her chapped lips. The water disappeared with three large gulps. She placed the glass back under the running water, filling it all the way, and turned it off.

  Glass in hand, she shuffled to the bathroom and flicked on the light to examine the cuts on her face. To her surprise, they looked fairly small. With the right hairstyle, they would barely show. She examined her hurt shoulder. It didn’t appear bruised on the outside, but at the very least the fall had sprained it. She attempted to raise it again and winced. Even though the pain had eased, it would still only lift halfway without causing too much discomfort.

  She turned the glass upside down and chugged until the last drop. On her way back to the kitchen to set her glass in the sink, she eyed her open purse regretfully, wondering what texts awaited her on her phone. She had yet to respond to Cindra’s text from yesterday afternoon, and didn’t have her usual evening check-in with Benjamin.

  She fished her phone from the bottom. Two messages awaited her, one from Benjamin and one from Cindra. Benjamin expressed his worries because his aunt informed him of her early departure yesterday, and asked her to text him as soon as she could. Thanks, Deborah, she thought with a roll of her eyes. Cindra filled her text with reproach because Alyx never called her back to tell her what had happened at lunch, and playfully accused her of avoiding her on purpose. Dead on as usual.

  She ignored both messages, knowing they would call her back as soon as they got a reply. She wasn’t up for a phone conversation yet. She did, however, need to get a hold of her boss so she pulled up a new text to Frederick. I’m under the weather, she typed, which was partly true. Sitting and typing at her desk all day long would only aggravate her shoulder further. I need to take a few days off. I will be back by next Monday at the latest. Mona has shared access to all of my computer files if you need anything. She sighed when the message successfully sent, knowing that Frederick wouldn’t be happy. He wouldn’t care that she had called in sick, she hadn’t since working there. He wouldn
’t be happy about relying on Mona for documents or appointments, but she couldn’t worry herself with that now. She wasn’t in any condition to go to work today – physically or mentally.

  She shut her phone and leaned against the counter. Her head hung with the thought of talking to Benjamin again, which she would eventually have to do. She couldn’t ignore him forever. But when they did, it wouldn’t be pleasant. Her decision hadn’t wavered since the night before – breaking up with him was the right thing to do. She had known all along that none of this was fair to him, but never did she think that she would let him go because of it. Now there were two casualties of her selfishness – physics ultimately reasoned that both men that pulled her heart in separate directions had to go.

  She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. The thought of breaking his heart pained her. He adored her. She was his whole world, and she would have to go through it with a machete and destroy everything in sight. But it was the best thing in the end. He deserved someone that could reciprocate those feelings and not have to force them as she had done for the past year. Just as her heart sang for Isaac, Benjamin deserved that from someone else.

  Isaac’s curious gaze from the night before flashed through her mind. She feverishly hoped that he never connected that she was the woman from the bistro. But would it be enough to keep her out of trouble with her superiors? The only thing greater than her desire for Isaac was her fear of punishment from them, and they had yet to intervene so she determined that she was safe -- at least for now.

  She picked up the binoculars that lay on the counter beside her. They didn’t have the same weighty burden that they once carried, but they still held a temptation that she needed to purge. She opened the lid to the trashcan, chunked them inside, and picked up the camera to delete the picture of his window. When she came to it, her thumb swept across the screen, her heart breaking. But she couldn’t allow herself even that one pleasantry if it would eventually lead her back to the rooftop one day. Unable to find the strength to witness its deletion, she turned her head and pressed the button. This whole mess had culminated from that one place she couldn’t stay away from, and yet, she still had a hard time deleting the picture. If only there were a way to delete the desires, she thought.

  She set the camera down, and her heavy eyes pled with her to sleep, but something else sounded better – resting on the couch and thumbing through old library books.

  She made her way to the couch and turned the TV on for background noise. As she lifted her “Australia at a Glance” book from the coffee table, visions of Isaac snuck back in. She would miss seeing him.

  * * *

  The ringing of Isaac’s alarm woke him from his dream, and for the first time, he roused without panic or fear. Oddly enough, despite the crick in his neck from sleeping in a sitting position, he felt refreshed.

  He pushed off of the couch and went to the window to check the weather. The rippled sheet of clouds washed everything outside with a sickly greyish-blue tint. Leaves tumbled down the sidewalk that people bustled along with their hands clasping the front of their jackets to keep the cold air from intruding. Jackets and jeans again today.

  His arms raised high in the air to stretch his back, and he moseyed to the kitchen to pour a bowl of cereal. He didn’t have the same urgency to get their morning routine going on Tuesdays as this was his only day off during the week. All he needed to do today was get Micah to school, and then he would stop by the bistro.

  He remembered that Frederick had flung his business card in the contest bowl yesterday to win a free lunch, and Isaac hoped it contained an address so he could pay him a visit -- and hopefully the mystery woman, as well. Looking forward to the possibility of seeing her again today, he reached inside the cabinet for a clean bowl as his lips spread into a wide smile. He had a good feeling about what the day would bring.

  * * *

  After dropping Micah off at school, Isaac went on his way to the bistro. He didn’t usually visit on his days off, and Tanya was the only one there that early. “She’ll be all in my business,” he said with a moan. What can I use as an excuse? The last thing we wanted to do was admit that he was hunting down the attractive woman she had teased him about the day before.

  He parked his truck in a space along the curb, and pulled the wallet from his pocket to get to the change that jingled at the bottom. He tossed the quarters into the meter and stared at his wallet with a grin. That’s it! he thought and shoved it into his glove box. Searching for a lost wallet would resonate with her. She constantly scolded him for losing things around the bistro; pens, staplers, name tags. This would most definitely keep her off his back.

  He rapped his knuckles against the glass door three times, and she immediately appeared from the back room to unlock it with a look of confusion. When she swung it open, he hustled through. “Mornin’, Tanya!” he belted out before she could speak. “I think I left my wallet here.”

  “You dummy,” she said and closed the door behind him. “I haven’t seen it.”

  Isaac shuffled loose papers and folders around on the front counter. “I’ll look around then.”

  She left him to his ‘wallet hunt’ and disappeared around the corner to stock the fridge with the food shipment they receive every Tuesday morning. As soon as her stout silhouette vanished, he darted for the bowl on the counter to sift through the business cards. When he stuck his hand inside, his fingernails clanked against the bottom of the empty ceramic bowl.

  “Your wallet won’t be in there,” Tanya said as she appeared from behind the corner with a droll smile.

  To hide the disappointment, he knelt behind the register, pretending to look for the wallet on some low shelves where the workers stashed their personal belongings.

  She joined him behind the counter, and he turned his head away with closed eyes. I wish she would leave me alone.

  She squatted beside him and pulled a card from her apron pocket. “We did the drawing last night. I saved it for you,” she said as she nudged him with her elbow.

  “Oh,” he muttered, rocking sideways, “th- thank you.”

  “No problem,” she beamed. “You didn’t really lose your wallet, did you?”

  Isaac placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her forehead. “As annoyin’ as you can be, Tanya,” he said, looking her square in the eyes, “you have a good soul.”

  “Think nothing of it.”

  * * *

  While on his way, Isaac drummed on the steering wheel as the radio blared a new song from his favorite group, The Script. He was now one step closer to finding the woman from the bistro.

  The closer his old truck came to her building, his mind reeled with questions. Was she alright from her fall? Would she admit what she was actually doing on the roof? Would she accept if he asked her to lunch? All he needed to do was go to 1010 Peachtree Place, floor eighteen, and find Frederick Bachman. Then all of his questions would hopefully be answered.

  He parked his truck in a metered spot one block away, threw in some quarters, and hurried to the building. He pushed through the heavy glass doors, and as he made his way past the security desk, a burly Samoan man stepped in his way. “What floor are you headed to?” he asked gruffly.

  Isaac took a step back. “I, um, I need to go to the eighteenth floor,” he replied.

  The man waved toward the sign-in sheet on the wood podium. “You need to sign in as a visitor then.”

  He nodded and went to sign his name before heading toward the elevators with as much restraint as he could manage to keep from breaking into a full-blown sprint. He felt like a child on Christmas morning, chomping at the bit to unwrap all the shiny presents.

  The elevator opened on the eighteenth floor, and he hurried to the big, wooden desk with “Bachman and Yorkshire” in gold letters. “How may I help you?” the red-haired receptionist asked with a welcoming smile.

  Isaac shoved his hands inside his pockets. “I need to speak with Mr. Bachman, pl
ease.”

  Deborah sized him up through narrowed eyes. “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No ma’am. I would only like to speak with him.”

  She slid a very professional-looking business card across the desk. “I’m afraid you can’t see him without an appointment, sir. But you can call this number here,” she said with a tap of her acrylic nail.

  “I already have one,” he replied as he flashed the folded card.

  She arched a painted-on eyebrow. “Call that number and make an appointment then. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said and refocused on her computer screen.

  He leaned over the top of her desk with a lowered voice. “I’m not here as a client. I know him personally and want to speak with him.”

  She wheeled her chair to the side as if he had a disease. “Can you please not lean on the counter?” she asked, her eyes glaring.

  He straightened his back. “Oh, sorry!”

  “Thank you. Now why can’t you just call that number?”

  He feared that she would ask that, and the white lie rolled easily from his tongue. “I tried callin’ his cell, but it said it had been disconnected.”

  Her head jerked back, her glasses sliding further down her bulbous nose. “That’s odd.” She tapped her pen atop the desk as she thought. “Take a seat over there,” she said as she pointed toward the chairs across the lobby and scurried around the corner.

  While he waited on the crotchety receptionist, he made his way to the area she requested he wait in and planted into a plush, leather chair. A group of men walked by in their expensive suits, fervently discussing important business matters, and Isaac immediately felt underdressed in his worn jeans and leather jacket. He peeled off his fingerless gloves and tucked them inside his jacket pocket – the only improvement he could make for the time being.

  Amongst the rich, wooden walls and the shiny, marble floors of the law firm’s waiting area, he appeared severely out of place in this corporate world where the girl from the bistro so rightfully belonged. He would normally consider himself foolish for tracking a woman like her down if it weren’t for their unusual run-in last night, along with Tanya’s persistent encouragement.